


baby shut your mouth and turn me inside out

by ballsdeepinjesus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A little, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Kinda, M/M, Overstimulation, Rimming, Spanking, i mean it's there but yknow, sugardaddy au, the daddy kink isn't like huge or anything tbh, yikes!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballsdeepinjesus/pseuds/ballsdeepinjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>And it’s good. It’s really, really good. Except they haven’t really talked about any of this and Harry can’t muster the courage to bring it up. Niall’s words at the bar run through his mind nearly every day. Fresh meat. Is this a thing Louis does, then? Find a toy to play with for awhile until he gets bored?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>He <em>knows</em> Louis, though. He’s been friends with him for months now and he knows that he’s not just some heartless asshole. But he doesn’t know if this is just a nice convenient hook-up to him or something more, like how Harry feels. And he knows he should ask, but he’s not brave enough. Not brave enough to possibly ruin everything when Harry can take what he’s being offered without complaints.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>[harry and louis meet in a mcdonalds. louis is everything harry needs.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby shut your mouth and turn me inside out

**Author's Note:**

> hiyaaaaa
> 
> ren loaded-gunn approached me a few weeks ago about taking part in daddymonth and at first i was like !!!!!! how the heck do i write daddy kink !!!! but then i remembered i had a sugardaddy fic in my head that i had completely forgotten about so yknow here we go

It’s a Wednesday afternoon and Harry is tired and hungry and broke. The cashier at McDonalds waits patiently while he picks at the coins he’s found in his jeans. He owes £1.57 and he only has £1.32. Right. 

He feels eyes burning into his back as he glances around at the spare change dishes on the counter. It’s just his luck that they’re all suspiciously empty. He’s about to mutter shamefully to the cashier that he changed his mind, he doesn’t really want a small milkshake after all, when a hand reaches around him to place a five pound note onto the counter.

“That’ll cover it, I think,” a voice says. Harry turns and prepares to protest against the stranger’s kindness, but all words die in his throat at the sight of the man behind him. He’s older – not by too much, probably, but Harry thinks he might be closer to 30 than he is to Harry’s 18 – and quite possibly the most attractive man Harry’s met recently. Or ever, maybe. He’s shorter than Harry, but what he lacks in height he makes up for in his confidently assertive stance. His small frame is clothed in an expensive-looking black suit that Harry feels like drooling over, paired with shiny black shoes that Harry suspects were handcrafted by some old shoemaker in some sweaty boutique in Italy. His face, though, that’s what Harry’s attention comes to rest on. He’s tan, with a thin face and cheekbones chiseled from marble, probably. His pink lips are curved up in an easy smile, a smile that’s reflected in his eyes. 

“I’m…” Harry trails off while he stares. He comes to a distant realization that he’s been giving this man one hell of a creepy onceover, but he’s tired and hungry and he can’t help himself. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, darling,” the man assures him. Harry turns when he hears the cashier clear his throat, glancing sheepishly at him and taking the change and his milkshake. He tries to hand the change back to the other man, but he just waves him off, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Keep it. You could tell me what’s good here, though.”

Harry looks wistfully up at the menu and sighs. “Everything’s good here.”

The man wrinkles his nose at that and cringes mildly. “Everything’s grossly fattening here, more like. I’ll take your word for it, though, babe.” He turns to the cashier and offers him a winning smile. “I’ll take one of everything, please.” He pulls his wallet out and presents some shiny credit card while Harry gapes at him. He turns to Harry and raises an eyebrow in question. “Care to have lunch with me?”

***

Harry’s sitting at a large table in the back of the restaurant when the man and three workers walk over with trays in their hands. The man sends a wink Harry’s way as they sit the trays down. He thanks the workers and sits across from Harry who can only stare at the food in front of him.

“Let’s dig in, then,” he says. 

Harry blinks and looks up at him in confusion. “I don’t…even know your name?”

“Louis,” he answers. 

Harry nods and reaches for a french fry, feeding it into his mouth as he scrutinizes him. “Louis,” he tries, testing the name out. He looks like a Louis. 

Louis grins and Harry is momentarily blindsided by the smattering of crinkles at the corners of Louis’ eyes. 

“Well, Louis. Do you really think we’re going to eat all of this?” Harry asks. He snatches up a box of nuggets and raises his eyebrows while he waits for his answer.

Louis shrugs and turns his lips down in response. “Probably not. We can try though, can’t we…” he trails off.

“Harry,” he supplies. “Good enough then. What do you do?” 

“I’m a record exec for a label I started with my mate after uni,” Louis answers. “We’re doing well enough, I guess.”

Harry narrows his eyes at Louis’ suit and scoffs. “You’re posh, mate. I’d say you’re doing more than ‘well enough.’” Louis laughs and shrugs his shoulders once more.

“Not posh. More of a Becks, I think, don’t you?” he smirks. “You however, pretty boy, you’re Posh.” Harry smiles and shakes his head, fighting the blush making its way onto his cheeks. “What do you do then, darling?”

Darling. He keeps calling him darling. Well. Fighting that blush is a hopeless endeavor now, apparently. 

“First year at uni,” Harry offers. “Getting my degree in philosophy.” 

Louis chokes on his drink and squawks in response, “ _Philosophy?_ I didn’t know they still offered degrees in that.”

It’s Harry’s turn to protest as he drawls out a “Heeeeeey” at the perceived insult. “I’ll have you know that Socrates, born in Athens in the 5th century BCE, marks a watershed in Ancient Greek philosophy.” Harry finishes the statement with a small fist pump in the air.

Louis blinks at him owlishly and opens and closes his mouth a few times in succession. “That meant nothing to me, mate, but I’ll take your word for it that it’s all very important and relevant to the world in which we live in.” Harry bows his head graciously in response. “But seriously what are you going to do with that degree?”

“Be poorer,” Harry replies. Louis huffs out a laugh and flicks a french fry at his chest.

***

Harry finds out a lot of things about Louis over the course of their lunch. He’s twenty-seven years old, loves football and FIFA, and is a huge connoisseur of gourmet cereal.

He also gets his number and an invite to some party Louis’ label is throwing that weekend.

***

So apparently Louis is even more successful than Harry imagined, because he spies no less than three celebrities within two minutes of his arrival at the party. Niall Horan, celebrated guitarist, singer, and all around Good Guy, even gave him a fist bump and a shot.

He feels a little out of his element. He’s wearing his tightest, nicest pair of black jeans he owns and a black mesh sweater over a black vest. The most expensive thing about his outfit is his boots that he found discounted at a secondhand shop anyway. Everyone around him is glittering and beautiful, while Harry feels a bit like a underdressed ninja. He’s considering backing out of the party and texting Louis to tell him he couldn’t make it when he feels an insistent hand pulling at the crook of his arm. He turns and sees Louis -- slightly intoxicated, beautiful, Louis – grinning at him from a foot away.

“Harry!” he cries. “You’re here!” Louis pulls him in close to give him a one-armed hug while he simultaneously drags him over to the bar. He’s wearing tight-fitting black jeans and a black blazer with a t-shirt underneath. His jeans are rolled up to his ankles and he’s rather endearingly not wearing socks. “What would you like to drink?” he asks.

“Um…” Harry replies, scanning the bottles behind the bar. “Surprise me.” Louis grins, eyes crinkling at the corners, and turns to rattle off drinks to the bartender he managed to catch the attention of. While they wait, Harry tries to make conversation.

“So this is like, a really big party, Lou,” he says, gesturing to the crowd. “You didn’t tell me your label was _this_ big.”

Louis shrugs. “We’ve got a few big names signed. Niall Horan, Aiden Grimshaw, Cher Lloyd, Little Mix…” he trails off and quirks his lips in a proud smile. “Zayn and I worked hard to find the right kind of talent. Paid off, innit?”

“I’d say,” Harry replies. His eyes scan the crowd as he spots Niall again. “Is that…Selena Gomez? Flirting with Niall?” 

Louis doesn’t even look over, merely bobbing his head in response. “Standard.” The bartender shuffles their drinks over and Louis passes Harry’s over. “Tell me what you think.”

Harry takes a sip and wrinkles his nose. Not that it tastes bad, but it’s fruity and light and not at all what he expected. Louis cocks his head in question at Harry’s reaction. “Thought you’d get me something strong. This is nice, though.”

“Didn’t take you for the whiskey type, love,” Louis says, shooting Harry a wink. “Now finish it quick, I want you to meet Zayn.”

Harry downs his drink easily and sets it on the bar. He turns and places his hand in Louis’ as he leads him across the crowded room. Harry passes through the writhing bodies uneasily, tightening his grip on Louis’ hand to keep him close. Louis leads him to a table where a small group of people sit, laughing and drinking. One of them looks up and Harry gasps slightly. He wonders if that drink was stronger than he thought because there seems to be a Grecian statue in front of him.

“This is Zayn,” Louis announces. Oh. “Zayn, this is Harry, the boy I told you about the other day.” Zayn’s face wrinkles into a grin as he raises his hand for a fist bump with Harry. He looks slightly more like a regular human when he smiles. Harry breathes a sigh of relief.

“Nice to meet you, mate,” Zayn says. “Louis kept going on about this posh boy he met at a McDonalds.” 

Harry glowers at Louis while the other man cackles in response. Harry’s glare loses a little of its heat because – yikes. Louis is really, really pretty. He sits next to him in the booth and tries not to stare too obviously while Louis takes over the life of the party, animatedly telling wild stories that have the entire table in stitches. 

He knows this is dangerous for him, getting too starstruck over someone way out of his league, but Louis is so funny and so charming and Harry is already besotted. Louis is friendly enough to him, but he thinks that’s as far as it goes. Rightfully so, he thinks. Louis has a place amongst the stars. 

He winds up staring at him for most of the night anyway. At least no one seems to notice.

***

Harry and Louis fall into an easy friendship. He doesn’t think he’s ever become this close to someone so fast, but he’s certainly not complaining when Louis texts him after classes are over, asking him to meet him for coffee, or when he’s lounging around in his flat on the weekend and Louis invites him for a night out on the town. It’s really nice, even if he doesn’t know what Louis is getting out of it.

Things start to change a little though when Louis begins to unleash his credit card for things a little flashier than coffee. 

They’re at some obscure designer store looking for a present for Louis’ mum’s birthday. Harry is trailing behind, taking in the scenery, when he stops at a table covered in scarves. One of them is a lovely bright blue color that reminds him vaguely of Louis’ eyes, patterned with red skulls. He runs his finger along the fabric and sighs wistfully, wishing that he’ll ever be secure enough financially to splurge on something like this. As it is, he barely has enough money to buy a few cups of pot noodles to last him and his flatmate Ed throughout the week. 

Louis sidles up to him a moment later, looking curiously at the scarf Harry’s holding. “Have a thing for fancy scarves, darling?” 

Harry shrugs bashfully and steps back from the table. “The color was quite pretty,” he answers. “Get what you needed for your mum?”

Louis keeps his gaze steady on Harry before answering. “Yeah, got her a nice purse,” he says, holding it up for Harry’s inspection. “You can wait outside for me while I check out. Look for a café we can stop at for lunch?”

***

Later that night, while unpacking his lone bag of purchases – a grocery bag from their last stop at Tesco’s – Harry finds a wrapped parcel at the bottom. He unwraps it warily, unsure of where it came from, and gasps when he finds the scarf hidden inside. He lays it gingerly on the counter and pulls out his phone, typing out a quick text.

**that scarf was expensive enough to pay for a semesters worth of books lou i cant accept this!!!!**

_well i cant return it now curly ! strict no return policy ! guess youll have to wear it for coffee tmrw anyway !_

Harry grunts and bangs his head against the counter in frustration.

***

Their coffee date – Harry flushes a little at the idea of it being a _date_ \-- starts off awkwardly. At least on Harry’s end. Louis merely looks pleased as punch at the sight of Harry with the blue scarf nestled in his curls. He really does like the scarf, but he can’t fathom the fact that Louis just dropped hundreds of pounds so arbitrarily on him.

“Louis,” he starts. Louis cocks his head and smiles, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. “You can’t just…buy me these thinks without asking. I can’t ever repay you for this.”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “Are you saying you’ll accept them if I ask you first?”

“No!” Harry cries. “You need to ask me so that I _can_ say no.”

Louis hums and stirs his drink around aimlessly. “I s’pose I’ll ask next time then.”

***

Next time comes a week later. They’re in another boutique, shopping around for some trinket to buy one of Louis’ sisters, when Louis stops at a wall of bags. He points at a brown leather satchel and gestures to Harry.

“This looks much better than that travesty of a backpack you carry around, Curly.” Harry narrows his eyes, knowing immediately where this is headed. “Consider it an early Christmas present?”

“Christmas isn’t for another seven months, Lou,” Harry replies, unimpressed.

“Your birthday then.”

“In February,” he responds smugly. 

Louis works his lips together while he thinks, resting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. “How about,” he begins, tapping his finger on his chin, “A gift for finishing this year with such good marks.” 

“Louis!” Harry groans. “I don’t want you to buy anything for me, ever.”

Louis rolls his eyes and picks the bag up from the hook. “Would go nice with your boots, don’t you think, love?” Harry huffs out a breath and crosses his arms, looking away from the older man. “You have that hole in your current bag, don’t you Harry?” Harry nods minutely but keeps his gaze trained elsewhere, burning a hole with his eyes into a table by his side. “Would hate for all of your expensive textbooks to get ruined if they fell out into a – a puddle or something, wouldn’t you?”

“Louis,” Harry starts reluctantly. “You’re not going to give up, are you.” It’s not a question; Harry already knows the answer. He’s only known Louis for a short while, but he knows by now that he’s persistent as hell. 

“No,” Louis replies simply. “You’ll let me buy it then?”

Harry leaves with a brand new bag that day. His scowl is only rivaled by Louis’ satisfied grin.

***

It’s useless to try and resist Louis after that. And it’s not that Harry doesn’t _appreciate_ what Louis has been doing for him, it’s just all a bit much. A lot much. _Too_ much. And it’s not like Harry really has anything to offer him back, not that Louis seems interested in any reciprocation.

But it’s frustrating. Harry tells Louis as much the next time they’re out in the city together. Louis is pushing a sheer black shirt into Harry’s hands, urging him to try it on. Harry walks two steps and then stops, dropping the shirt onto the table.

“This feels like _Pretty Woman_ , Lou,” he says. Louis furrows his brows as his mouth forms itself into a confused pout. “I feel like a _hooker._ ”

Louis gapes open-mouthed for a few seconds and then lets out a strangled laugh. “Don’t hookers usually have sex, H? Isn’t that part of the deal, there?”

Harry blushes and shrugs, looking down to his hands that he’s began to wring together. “You know what I mean,” he answers solemnly.

There’s a beat of silence and then Louis is walking forward, crowding Harry’s space, so that he can place his hand comfortingly on Harry’s arm. He pauses for a moment and then speaks: “I know this doesn’t come as a surprise Harry, but I have a lot of money.” Harry laughs softly, and raises his head to look into Louis’ eyes. They’re uncharacteristically serious, boring into his with sincerity. “I wasn’t always though. My family had to really scrounge around when I was a kid, H. So now that I’m…more _secure_ financially…I like to be generous, I guess?” Louis looks down at the shirt on the table and shrugs one of his shoulders. “I like to spoil the people that are most important to me. That’s all.”

Harry bites his lip. “I’m an important person to you?” He doesn’t mean to be insecure but – well he has to know. They’ve only known each other for a few months now, but Louis has started to mean everything to him, really.

Louis glances back at him and smiles, eyes soft and kind. “One of the _most,_ babe.”

***

Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t notice the shift in their friendship after that. It becomes more intense, if anything, both of them preferring to spend their nights in each other’s company than anywhere else.

Ed teases Harry about never being around their flat anymore, too busy with his _boyfriend_ , and Harry flushes every time. 

They’re becoming more touchy-feely too and Harry isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. He goes to bed frustrated and wakes up with sticky sheets, thoughts of the feel of Louis’ hand on the small of his back and his neck weighing heavy on his mind. 

Sometimes when they’re at Louis’ flat watching a movie on his couch, Harry will curl his head into the crook of Louis’ neck and just breathe him in, high off the scent caused by a mix of Louis’ cologne and his skin. When he’s feeling adventurous, sometimes he’ll even place a kiss on his neck, nuzzling his nose into his skin and feeling the slight jump of Louis’ pulse beneath him. It’s exhilarating, but nothing is ever enough. He wants him so badly, _needs_ him even, but they’re at a stalemate, probably caused by Harry’s own hesitance.

There are times when he’s so sure Louis feels the same; when he looks up from his phone and sees Louis giving him a soft smile, when the customary kiss on his cheek Louis greets him with begins to linger just slightly…but then there are times when Harry just has no idea what he’s doing or what Louis is feeling. Louis will jump off at a party to dance with someone else, gifting another boy with his attention, and for just a moment Harry feels so, so lost.

But Louis always comes back to him. He thinks that counts for something.

***

Louis invites Harry to the release of Niall Horan’s new album’s release party. He dresses in his sheer shirt and his blue scarf, grumbling only a little at the thought that nearly a _thousand pounds_ worth of clothes are on his body.

But he’s dressed to impress tonight. He pairs everything with his tightest pair of jeans, a glittery earring, and a heavy spritz of cologne that Louis has complimented him on before. Tonight he’s going to break the ice. Tonight he’s going to kiss Louis, he’s decided. 

He meets him inside the club, dancing away to a remix of some Britney song. Louis hollers excitedly when he sees him, pulling him in for a sweaty hug and a kiss on the cheek that has Harry’s face heating up. 

“Glad you could make it, Curly!” Louis shouts over the music. “Drink up!” He passes the drink in his hand to Harry and drags him to the bar to order two more. Niall Horan is inexplicably pouring drinks behind the counter, singing along loudly to the song.

“Niall!” Louis yells.

Niall jerks his head up and grins, reaching his hand out to slap Louis’. “Louis! How are you, bro?” He grabs two glasses and pours Harry and Louis pints without even asking.

“This is your party, Ni, shouldn’t I be asking how you’re doing? And why are you behind the bar? We have paps coming soon to take pictures, you numpty.” 

Niall shrugs carelessly and grabs a rag to wipe down the counter. “The drinks weren’t strong enough. Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.” Niall flicks his eyes at Harry and grins. “Seen you around these things a bunch of times, haven’t I?”

Harry smiles and nods. “I’m Harry. Louis’ friend.”

Niall cuts his eyes at Louis and gives him a dirty smirk. “Oh, I bet you’re his friend, alright. Fresh meat, Lou?”

Louis coughs into his drink and glares at Niall as he places it on countertop. “We’ll be leaving now, Niall.” He turns and offers his arm to Harry. “Ignore him. Dance with me?”

With a confused glance back and a wave at Niall, Harry heads out onto the floor, squeezed on every side by gyrating bodies, the gentle tug of Louis ahead of him keeping him moving. Louis shoulders his way into a free space and turns to face Harry with a grin, placing his hands on his hips and pulling him closer. 

“Hiya, Curly,” Louis says over the music. Harry grins back at him and traces his eyes over his features, highlighted in reds, blues, and greens from the club lights. He’s sweaty and flushed, but he’s as beautiful as ever, eyes crinkled and soft, mouth thin but curved into the prettiest smile. Harry really, really wants to kiss him, not that that’s a new feeling for him at all, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to cross that line. Screw his goal for tonight, he’s too scared to fuck things up.

“What are you thinking about?” Louis shouts. His hands tighten around Harry’s hips as he pulls him closer, causing Harry to hitch his breath.

Harry just shakes his head and wraps his arms around Louis’ neck, moving faster to the beat. The song switches from the frenetic dance tempo of before into something heavier. The bassline is loud and reverberates through Harry’s bones; Louis slows his movements and drags his hands over Harry’s body, his right hand on the small of his back and his left gripped around his side.

Louis stares into his eyes, biting his lip as if he’s deciding on something, and then he seems to make the decision and – oh. He’s sliding his thigh in between Harry’s slightly parted legs, shifting their hips so that they’re pressed together tightly. He eases his body around in soft movements, each swivel of his hips dragging his thigh lightly across Harry’s crotch. Harry staggers out a rough breath and squeezes his eyes shut, biting his nails into Louis’ neck. 

Harry leans down to press his face near Louis’; he turns slightly to whisper into his ear, “Are you drunk?”

Louis eases his head away and shakes his head no, rubbing his hand along Harry’s back. They’re finally moving in tandem now, Harry reciprocating each movement so that their thighs are brushing against each other’s cocks with each thrum of the bass. 

Harry can feel himself getting hard, the insistent rub of Louis’ thick thigh in between his legs giving him an inexplicable amount of pleasure. As the tempo of the song picks up, their movements become more and more frantic; they’re hardly keeping up the ruse of dancing anymore. Louis’ hands are digging into Harry’s back, directing his movements as his own hips rub relentlessly into Harry’s thigh. Harry presses his face into Louis’ neck, breathing hotly against his collarbone and mouthing wetly at the veins of his throat. Louis hisses into Harry’s ear and moves his hand down to grip at his small arse, flexing his fingers into the meat of it and digging in. The darkness and lack of space in the area allow Louis to slip his hand down the back of Harry’s skintight jeans. He can’t go far, but he gets one finger down enough to rub a teasing finger at the cleft of his arse. Harry whines and thrusts pleadingly into Louis’ hold, begging wordlessly for something more.

Louis pulls away abruptly, heedless to Harry’s whines, and wraps his fingers around his wrist, dragging him from the dancefloor. Harry thinks they’re headed to the bathrooms, but he can see from here that they’re packed, an endless line jammed into the darkened hallway. But Louis pulls him to the entrance instead, brushing past the line of people waiting to get in. 

“Where are we going?” Harry questions, breathing unsteadily.

“My car,” Louis answers shortly. 

His car. Right. Louis is parked down the street; Louis’ steps are hurried and Harry stumbles a little trying to match his pace. When they get there, Harry expects to sit in the passenger side while Louis gets in to drive, but instead he’s ushered into the back seat, pushed in front of Louis who climbs in after, slamming the door behind him. There’s a moment of hesitation, where both of them stare each other down, but then Louis lunges forward to wrap his hand around the back of Harry’s neck and tug him towards his mouth. They meet in a frenzied kiss, Louis taking control immediately, pressing his tongue inside Harry’s mouth to tangle with his own. Harry whines in the back of his throat and arches up, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck to pull him closer. 

Louis drags him against his body as he sits with his back against the window. Harry clambers on top, mouths still pressed together, resting his knees on either side of Louis’ hips. Louis runs his hands along Harry’s thighs and over his back, smoothing his hands under his shirt to scratch his nails down his back. Harry breaks the kiss and gasps, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut. Louis takes hold of his hips and rocks Harry forward as he thrusts up. Harry whines at the contact, keening when one of Louis’ hands moves to grip the hair at the back of his neck, dragging him in for another kiss. 

Harry can hardly think straight, can barely control his movements as he rocks against Louis, desperate to get closer and feel more friction. Everything’s too much but it’s not enough, either. He moans into Louis’ mouth and pulls away to lie down along the backseat. He reaches his hands out for Louis who only hesitates a moment before he climbs on top of Harry, slotting his legs in between Harry’s; he grabs one of Harry’s thighs and hitches it around his hip as he moves, rubbing their cocks together. The sensation of the harsh denim and his zipper pressed against his dick isn’t the most pleasant, but he’s too far gone to care, mind hazy and filled with the pleasure of Louis on top of him, grinding furiously.

“You,” Louis pants, “have no _fucking_ idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this.” 

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Wanted this so much, Lou,” he answers. “From the start.”

Louis leans down and grunts into Harry’s skin, teeth nibbling at his exposed collarbones. He licks and sucks and bites until Harry feels moisture pooling at the corners of his eyes. “Please, please, please,” he whines.

Louis fits a hand in between their bodies to fumble with Harry’s zipper. He slips his hand into the gap of his jeans and fits his hand around Harry’s cock, rubbing his palm into the damp fabric. 

“You wanna come for me, baby? Wanna come in your pants for me?” he whispers.

Harry gasps and throws his head back, exposing his neck for more bites from Louis’ mouth. Louis fits his lips around Harry’s ear and sucks the lobe into his mouth, nibbling gently. 

“C’mon, baby. You can do it,” he urges. With one more rough grind of his palm, Harry’s body seizes as he comes, spilling inside his pants and soaking the fabric. He lets out a prolonged moan as his body jerks through the aftershocks, Louis’ palm never ceasing in its movements.

When he’s finally still, and Louis’ hand just begins to become too much, he pulls away and fumbles with his own zipper. Harry watches through narrowed eyes as Louis tugs his jeans down around his hips and pulls his cock out, working his fist quick over his length. He wants to reach for him and touch, but he’s too fucked out to do anything but watch as Louis rakes his eyes over his debauched body. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis grunts as his fist flies over his cock. “Wanna do everything with you.” 

Harry spreads his legs apart and bites his lip while he watches. It doesn’t take long until Louis cries out, body stilling as he spills into his hand. He falls forward onto one hand by Harry’s forehead, panting into Harry’s ear. Harry reaches down to grab Louis’ other wrist, pulling his hand forward and closing his lips around each of Louis’ fingers, sucking his come into his mouth while he stares into Louis’ eyes. Louis’ mouth falls open in surprise; he lets out a wavering moan at the sight. With one last lick, Harry lets Louis’ hand fall against his chest.

“That was,” Louis begins, “Unexpected.”

Harry bites his lip and giggles softly, pulling Louis against his chest for a cuddle.

***

Things change a bit after that. Instead of watching a film on Louis’ couch, Harry gives him a handjob instead. Instead of saying goodnight with a hug, Louis sucks Harry off in the front seat of his Mercedes outside of Harry’s flat.

And it’s good. It’s really, really good. Except they haven’t really talked about any of this and Harry can’t muster the courage to bring it up. Niall’s words at the bar run through his mind nearly every day. Fresh meat. Is this a thing Louis does, then? Find a toy to play with for awhile until he gets bored?

He _knows_ Louis, though. He’s been friends with him for months now and he knows that he’s not just some heartless asshole. But he doesn’t know if this is just a nice convenient hook-up to him or something more, like how Harry feels. And he knows he should ask, but he’s not brave enough. Not brave enough to possibly ruin everything when Harry can take what he’s being offered without complaints.

But it gnaws away at him.

***

When things inevitably come to head, Harry doesn’t even mean for it to happen. They’re having some idle conversation about past partners when Harry slips out, “I mean, I’m sure you’ve done this before.”

Louis cocks his head to the side quizzically. “What’s ‘this’?”

Harry shrugs and looks down at his lap, wringing his hands together. “You know. I’m like, a passing fancy. I’m sure you’ve met a lot of guys like me.”

Louis’ hands still from where they’d been playing with the hairs at the nape of Harry’s neck. “What are you trying to say?”

Harry can feel his face heating up, knowing this conversation isn’t going the way it was supposed to. It wasn’t supposed to go at all, that’s the problem. “I’m just saying that this probably isn’t anything serious for you. You’ll find someone better than me soon, I’m sure.”

Louis pulls away and shoots Harry an affronted look. “Are you trying to say that you’re my plaything, Harry? Is that what you think of me?”

Harry gapes and protests, reaching for Louis’ hands. Louis pulls away, standing and pacing away from the couch. “No, Lou, that’s not – _no_ ,” he argues. 

Louis gives him a weary look and sighs, dragging his palms over his face. “It’s getting late, Harry. I should take you home.”

Harry doesn’t protest, unsure of what to say. He doesn’t know how to make Louis understand how he’s feeling. He follows Louis numbly out to his car and spends the drive in silence as Louis drops him off at his flat. 

They part with muttered goodbyes, Louis avoiding eye contact as Harry gets out of the car. He pulls away without a second look, leaving Harry alone on the curb with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

***

Louis hasn’t texted in four days.

Harry tries not to mope, but it’s useless. He hasn’t left his room in three of those days, choosing to lounge around in his sweatpants watching shit TV.

Ed finally confronts him on the fourth day.

“Where’s your loverboy? You’re never here if you can help it,” he jokes. Harry shrugs and picks at his nails. “Not getting any of that sugardaddy action, then?”

Harry looks up sharply and frowns. “He’s not my sugardaddy, Ed. I love--,” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “He’s more than that.”

“How am I supposed to know that, mate? You never bring him around here, do you?” Ed replies.

It’s true. Harry’s avoided bringing him around here for fear he’ll be turned off by the shabby flat. He realizes abruptly how unfair that is. For the most part, Harry’s spent all of his time around Louis at his place, or at Louis’ hangouts. He hasn’t bothered to bring him around to his home. He’s spent all this time thinking he isn’t a permanent fixture on Louis’ life, but he hasn’t exactly treated Louis like he’s permanent either.

He wants him to be.

Harry pulls out his phone and types out a quick text. _can we please talk .xx_

Only five minutes pass before he gets a reply: **café at 3 ?**

***

He’s really, really nervous. He hasn’t seen Louis in days and that’s longer than he ever wants to go, especially on such uneasy terms. He’s waiting at a table in the corner, cradling a hot chocolate in his hands that he doesn’t even want. The warmth from the cup grounds him, keeps him from getting lost in his head, where visions of Louis not wanting to take this any further are dancing around.

At three on the dot, Louis walks in the café and steps through the door, looking around for Harry. Harry bites his lip and takes him in; his stubble is close to becoming a full on beard and there are subtle hints of purple under his eyes that suggest he hasn’t been sleeping that well. Finally he spies Harry’s table and walks over, giving Harry a hesitantly small smile.

Harry doesn’t even let Louis sit before he blurts out “I’m sorry!” Louis opens his mouth to speak, but Harry continues, cutting him off. “I didn’t mean anything the way it sounded. You’re lovely, Lou. I don’t think you’re playing with me, or…or anything like that. I just,” he pauses, furrowing his eyebrows and tracing a finger around the edge of his mug. “You’re amazing. And I’m a teenager and I’m boring and young and stupid and you’re incredible. I think the world of you, I just don’t know how you could want to be with me.”

Harry keeps looking down at his mug as he finishes, tracing his eyes over the swirls of chocolate in the now-cold liquid. He’s surprised by the gentle slap to his arm from Louis’ hand. His head shoots up to look at Louis who’s giving him a disbelieving grin.

“You absolute nutter. How about you let me decide how and why I want to be with someone, Curly?” Harry looks down at his mug, chagrined, and nods. “But your apology is accepted. A little unnecessary too. Neither of us have been particularly forthcoming about what this is, I suppose.”

“That’s part of why I wanted to talk to you,” Harry says. “I want you to see my flat and meet my friends and maybe be my boyfriend,” he rushes. 

He casts a shy glance at Louis who beams at him from across the table. “Well it just so happens that I’d love to go to your flat and meet your friends and be your boyfriend, love. Shall we go now?”

***

Louis spends the night curled up next to Harry in his small bed, with his scratchy sheets swathed around his body. He still looks too good for Harry’s shabby little place, but he fits.

Everything about him just _fits_.

***

They’re on their first official date as boyfriends and Harry wants to leave. He’s sitting across from Louis in some fancy restaurant, trying to listen to Louis’ hilarious story about something that happened with one of his clients today, but all Harry can focus on is the lovebite he left two days ago peeking out from the loose collar of Louis’ shirt. Louis showed up for their date looking like Actual Sex and Harry is frustrated.

Despite the astronomical amount of blowjobs and handjobs the two have exchanged, they haven’t gone anywhere past that yet. And Harry wants this to be the night.

But, as is the case with many things in Harry’s life, he has no idea how to broach the subject. Logic dictates that he should let it come about naturally, maybe just whisper it into Louis’ ear when they’re fumbling around on his bed later that night. Harry’s not good at being subtle, though, so he winds up voicing it out loud in the middle of Louis’ story.

“I want you to fuck me tonight. Soon. Like I want to leave now,” he blurts.

Louis gapes at him from across the table, hands stilled in the air from where they’d been making some kind of motion. Harry wasn’t really paying attention, to be honest. Louis shoots out his left hand and waves to a passing waiter.

“Can I get the check, please? My boyfriend isn’t feeling too well,” Louis whispers. Harry’s heart lurches a little at ‘boyfriend,’ but mostly he’s just really horny. 

Louis pays quickly, flicking his eyes up to Harry while he signs the receipt, eyes dark and hungry. 

The car ride is silent for the most part. Louis turns up the radio and fixes his eyes on the road, hands tightly gripped on the steering wheel, while Harry jerks his knee up and down in nervous anticipation.

The drive is short, thankfully, so sooner rather than later they pull up outside Louis’ complex. The moment they’re safely inside Louis’ flat, Louis pushes him against the door and attaches his lips to his neck, sucking sure-to-be bruises into his skin.

Harry runs his hands along Louis’ back and into his hair, tugging him up so he can kiss him. Their tongues twist together in sync, their bodies attuned to each other’s movements. Slowly, Louis begins stepping backwards down the hallway to his bedroom, keeping Harry pulled closely against him. Harry cradles his back to keep him from falling into the doorway and pushes him to the bed. Louis spins him around and pushes him until he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, legs splayed open. Louis drags Harry’s shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, following it up with his own clothing.

“Take your pants off,” Louis orders. Harry complies quickly, tugging his tight jeans off as fast as possible, kicking them off his feet until they land a few feet away. Harry moves to scooch back on the bed and onto his back, but Louis stops him with a firm hand on his knee. “Turn around, baby.”

Harry twists around onto his hands and knees and waits, clad only in his boxer briefs, as Louis climbs onto the bed behind him. He runs his hands along Harry’s thighs and then up over his arse, kneading his fingers into his flesh.

“You’ve got quite an underrated arse, Harry,” Louis comments breathlessly.

Harry laughs and turns to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Not too many people rating it in the first place, Lou.”

Louis shrugs and hooks his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s boxer briefs. “I’m giving you a ten out of ten anyway.” Harry giggles and waits patiently as Louis drags his boxer briefs down his thighs, lifting each knee so he can pull them off his ankles. Louis reaches towards his bedside drawer to snag a bottle of lube and a condom; he places them off to Harry’s side and reaches down to keep kneading his hands into Harry’s arse. 

There isn’t a whole lot of warning when Louis leans down and licks at Harry’s entrance; just the quick spread of his cheeks and the hot breath of Louis’ mouth breathing against him. Harry shuts his eyes and groans, body seizing at the contact. Louis sets to work, licking wildly and messily all over Harry’s entrance, tracing his rim and pushing his tongue against it. He reaches blindly for the lube and moves back for a few seconds to open it and dribble it on his fingers. He traces one of his fingers around his hole and then pushes inside, just with the tip, acclimating Harry to the feeling of the stretch. He pushes in slowly and then moves his face down to lick around his finger.

Harry cries out and hangs his head low, fingers bunched in the sheets beneath him. Louis eases a second finger inside and slowly begins to stretch him, thrusting inside shallowly at first and then deeper, seeking the spot inside of him that’ll make him see stars.

When he presses up against it, fingers rubbing in a circular motion while his tongue starts to press inside as well, Harry whines and spreads his thighs, lowering himself just a bit until the head of his cock grazes against the sheets. 

Louis pulls back to take a breath and rests his face against Harry’s cheek, murmuring compliments into his skin. 

“Wish you could see yourself like this, Harry. You’re so wet,” he groans. “So open.”

“Please, please, please,” Harry begs. “More.”

Louis nudges his ring finger against Harry’s hole and slowly presses it inside, letting it rest with the others for a moment while Harry gets used to the stretch. He leisurely begins to push his fingers inside, gradually increasing the tempo until he’s fucking him once more with fervor. 

Harry thinks he’s going to explode if Louis doesn’t get inside him as soon as possible. He’s about to voice this, but Louis seems to know anyway. He pulls out and grabs the condom, tearing it open. Harry keeps his face down, clenching his fingers into the sheets while he listens to the sounds of Louis slicking himself up. And then, with one agonizingly slow movement, Louis shifts and lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock against Harry’s entrance.

Inch by inch, Harry feels the overwhelming pressure of his cock stretching him open. It hurts a bit, stings more than anything, but he can’t bring himself to care. The knowledge that it’s Louis, beautiful, bright Louis _inside_ of him right now brings him to a state of relaxation he’s never felt during sex before. He’s worked up still of course -- he can feel himself dripping onto Louis’ expensive silk sheets – but he feels…complete. Oddly secure.

Everything around him fades as Louis begins to pull back and push back inside, thrusting slowly but deeply inside of him. The drag of his cock and the weight of his hands at his hips are the only thing able to anchor him down. 

Louis hits his stride, quickening his pace and keeping his thrusts deep, directed down at his prostate. Every few thrusts he hits it, punching a gasp and a wail from Harry’s mouth. 

Maybe it’s the safety he feels that makes him do it, but without even realizing what he’s doing it slips out: “Daddy.”

It’s just a whisper, barely audible over the slap of their skin, but Louis hears it anyway, his strokes halting at once. 

Harry’s eyes fly open and his skin heats up in shame. “I didn’t--,” he starts.

“Did you say--,” Louis says at the same time. 

“Please, just keep going,” Harry begs. “Please, Louis.”

Reluctantly, Louis begins to move again. Harry can feel the hesitance in his movements; he can barely stop himself from burrowing his head into his pillow and crying, letting the shame wash over him.

Everything still feels amazing, but a growing knot of dread forms in his stomach at the thought of the conversation they’re bound to have after this. He doesn’t know what came over him and he doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to look him in the eyes.

It’s a surprise when he comes; he hadn’t even noticed Louis’ hand had snaked down to fist at his cock. His body clenches around Louis’ length as he stills, crying out and spilling onto the sheets. Louis supports his body with one hand as he finishes too, thrusting deep and emptying himself inside the condom. 

They pull apart breathlessly, Louis rolling onto his back and peeling off the condom while Harry slumps onto his stomach, disregarding the wet patch beneath him, and buries his head in his arms while he catches his breath.

Everything’s quiet for a moment. All Harry hears are the staggered breaths of himself and Louis. He’s startled by the feeling of Louis’ hand running along his spine.

“Harry…” Louis whispers. “Talk to me, baby. C’mon, look at me, darling.”

Harry lifts his head and turns, resting his cheek on his arm while he fits Louis with a teary look.

“Oh, Harry,” Louis tuts, bringing his hand up to smooth a thumb under his eye to catch the tears. “Don’t cry, please.”

“I’m a freak,” Harry whimpers. “A fucking weirdo.”

“Harry!” Louis protests. “You’re not a freak or a weirdo. A lot of people are into that kind of thing, I guess.”

Harry raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. “Are _you_ into that kind of thing?”

Louis shrugs and runs his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Never really gave it much thought to be honest. If you’re into it, though…I can work with that.”

Out of all the things Harry expected Louis to say, this was not one of them. “What.” It’s not a question. “You’re not going to ask why it happened or anything? You’re just – accepting it?”

Louis looks confused as he shrugs again. “Not everything has a reason, Harry. We’re both consenting adults. I can work with anything you like, just like I hope you can work with what I like.”

“What do you like?”

“Well…I quite like licking you out, I suppose,” he answers.

“That’s not exactly something I have to try hard to deal with, Lou,” Harry argues.

“No,” Louis replies. “But neither is this…daddy thing, Harry. If you’re interested in that…then so am I.”

Harry surges forward and presses his lips to Louis’. Louis wraps his arms around his back and pulls him against his chest, licking along the seam of his lips and then pulling away with a pop. 

“Thank you,” Harry whispers gratefully. “For the record, though, I have a very healthy relationship with both father figures in my life.” 

Louis laughs and tugs him closer, pressing a kiss into his sweaty curls.

***

Harry’s lounging on a sun chair on the deck of a boat – more of a yacht, he thinks – off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. He’s not quite sure how he got here (Louis asked him out of the blue one afternoon and two days later he’s found himself sunbathing in the middle of the sea), but he is quite sure he never wants to leave. He eyes the side of the boat as a soaking wet Louis climbs the ladder, water dripping from his hair and swimming trunks plastered to his thighs. He definitely never wants to leave.

Louis grins at him as he grabs a towel and dries his hair out. “Trying to put some color into that pasty English skin, love?”

“Heeeeey,” Harry drawls. “I’m resting. Enjoying the view.” He rakes his eyes obviously over Louis’ body as the other man throws his head back in laughter. Harry sips at his glass of champagne – champagne on a yacht in the Mediterrean, _really_ \-- and shrugs demurely. 

“Well, I guess you could say I’m doing the same,” Louis answers. He kneels in front of Harry’s lounge chair and runs his hands along Harry’s long legs, leaning down to press kisses at the inside of his thighs. Harry shivers and places his glass beside him, running his fingers through Louis’ wet hair lightly. “You look right at home here, darling. Soaking up the sun like some supermodel.”

“Not a supermodel,” Harry murmurs. 

“No, I suppose not,” Louis answers. “Like my super hot student boyfriend, then.”

Harry giggles and pulls Louis up to kneel over him, shielding him from the sun. He runs his hands down Louis’ chest, scratching through the very fine dusting of hair. He circles the tips of his fingers over one nipple and then moves down, wiggling his hand into the waistband of Louis’ trunks.

“Well your super hot student boyfriend wants to blow his super hot boyfriend on the deck of this yacht,” Harry whispers conspiratorially. “Maybe you could help with that?”

“Hmm, maybe,” Louis says. He knees himself up and adjusts the seat so that Harry can sit up and support his back. Louis puts his hand at the back of his neck and tugs him closer, pressing his mouth against Louis’ bellybutton. “Like this, yeah?”

Harry nods quickly and closes his eyes, rubbing his cheek along Louis’ belly. He hooks his fingers into the band of Louis’ shorts and tugs them down to his knees. He’s not hard yet, but Harry likes this part best – getting him worked up, feeling Louis fatten up in his hand or his mouth. He places his hands on Louis’ arse, one palm on each cheek, and squeezes gently while he kisses the soft skin around Louis’ cock. He nuzzles his nose around the hairs and fits his mouth around the tip, suckling gently and licking around the head. He moves back and presses kisses along his length, watching as he gradually comes to life. 

He takes him in slowly, running his tongue along the vein at the bottom. With a push of his hands, Harry encourages Louis to start making gentle rocking motions, pulling out and then pushing back in deeper with each stroke. He can feel him harden completely inside his mouth, filling it up until his lips are stretched around him fully. He glances up and sees Louis watching him with darkened eyes, mouth open as he takes shuddering breaths.

“Your fucking _mouth_ Harry,” he groans. “Looks so pretty stretched around my cock like this.” He tightens his grip on the back of Harry’s neck and tugs him in harder, adjusting his thrusts so he’s pushing in deeper with every movement. Harry’s eyes fog with tears as he tries not to gag. He calms himself down and relaxes, letting Louis use his mouth as he sees fit. It’s getting messy, his mouth pooling with spit that slides over Louis’ cock with every thrust, but Harry knows Louis likes it that way. Harry likes it too, knowing how filthy he must look to him. The thought alone makes his cock throb in his trunks, but he fights the urge to snake his hand down and palm himself through the fabric. He has plans for Louis after this. 

“Messy boy,” Louis coos, brushing his thumb along the corner of Harry’s mouth. “So perfect.”

Harry whines and squeezes his eyes shut. He throws himself into every push of Louis’ hand, eager to get Louis off. He moans around his cock, knowing the vibrations drive Louis crazy. Louis gasps and digs his nails into his neck as he stills, burying himself in Harry’s mouth while he comes. Harry sucks him through it, running his tongue along the underside of his cock and then licking around the head when Louis pulls out. Louis pushes him away gently when the sensation becomes too much. Harry leans back against the chair, satisfied as he runs his tongue along his lips.

He waits patiently while Louis catches his breath. Louis leans over him with one arm braced against the chair, panting into the crook of his arm. When Harry thinks Louis is finally calm, he moves his hand to his own chest, tracing around his left nipple. This catches Louis’ attention; he turns his head, cheek resting on his arm, and watches as Harry pinches himself. He does the same with his other hand, rolling his tips in between his fingers while he bites his lip and stares at the other man. 

“You gonna touch yourself for me, baby?” Louis asks.

“Yes,” Harry whispers.

“Yes, what?” 

Harry pauses, confused as to what Louis is asking. And then -- _oh._

“Yes, Daddy,” he breathes.

“Good boy,” Louis coos. He moves to the foot of the chair and leans back on his hands with his legs splayed open while he watches. Harry spreads his own legs apart in response, hitching his hips up in gentle thrusts. 

He squeezes each nipple forcefully and gasps at the sensation, rolling his head off to one shoulder. 

“Stop,” Louis orders. Harry’s hands still and reluctantly move away to rest by his sides. Louis leans to reach onto the floor and grab their toiletry bag that they’d stored their sun lotion in. He pulls out a small bottle of lube tucked into the bottom and then tosses the bag back onto the floor. “Up.”

Harry scrambles onto his feet and waits while Louis takes his former spot on the chair. The wooden chair is sturdy, but Harry hopes its sturdiness will hold for what they’re about to do. 

“Take your pants off, baby,” Louis says. He sits relaxed in the chair, his hand leisurely stroking at his cock to bring it back to full hardness. Harry puts on a bit of a show, slowly pulling his trunks off inch by inch, watching as Louis takes in every exposed bit of skin with aroused interest. Finally his pants drop to the floor and he steps out, kicking them off to the side. He stand patiently by the chair, waiting. 

“Come here,” Louis gestures, rubbing his thighs. Harry ambles over and kneels over Louis’ knees, slowly seating himself with his arse on his thighs. Louis runs his hands along Harry’s back, scratching at his spine while Harry resists the urge to rut himself against his stomach.

Louis reaches past Harry’s back and grabs the bottle of lube, resting it on his tummy as he tickles at the doughy skin of Harry’s hips. 

“You want to do this part, sweetheart?” he asks.

Harry’s eyes widen in surprise while he considers his response. On one hand, nothing compares to the feeling of Louis’ fingers working him open. But on the other hand, the idea of stretching himself open while Louis just watches is strangely exhilarating. Wordlessly, he reaches for the bottle of lube and opens it, squeezing a good amount onto his fingers. He rubs the cold liquid between the pads of his fingers to warm it up and then leans forward, arching his back and pushing his arse out. Louis moves his hands up to Harry’s shoulders to support him, massaging his hands firmly into the skin.

Harry reaches behind him and rubs one finger against his hole experimentally. He hasn’t gotten himself off like this that often, actually; he usually prefers the quick relief of a wank. But with Louis’ heated gaze directed in between his legs, he just wants to be _good_. He presses the tip of his finger inside and wiggles it cautiously, easing it in until it’s all the way inside. The angle sucks, but he can deal with the ache in his arm later. He thrusts gingerly and then adds a second finger. He glances up and watches Louis watch him; he’s licking his lips and tightening his grip on Harry’s shoulder while he stares. When he adds a third finger, Louis finally flicks his eyes up at Harry. While Harry’s plunging his fingers inside, opening himself up messily and grinding back onto his hand, Louis lunges forward to kiss him. He licks inside his mouth and sucks at his tongue, biting at his lip as he pulls away and starts murmuring compliments into Harry’s skin.

“So pretty, Harry. So good for me, aren’t you, darling? Aren’t you, Harry?” he asks. 

“Yes, yes, Lou,” Harry breathes. “I wanna be good for you.”

“You are, baby,” Louis affirms. He trails his hand down between their bodies, bypassing Harry’s cock in favor or tracing his fingers around his entrance. Harry feels his fingers around his and he cries out, wanting him inside.

“Can you…” he trails off.

“Can I what, Harry?” Louis asks.

“Want your fingers instead,” Harry whispers. Louis murmurs soothing sounds and nods; Harry pulls his fingers out and waits impatiently while Louis slicks his own up. When he thrusts inside with two, Harry groans and wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulder, rocking onto him urgently. Louis adds a third almost immediately and curls them inside, pressing the pads of his fingers against Harry’s prostate. Harry bites down on Louis’ shoulder to keep himself from screaming. Louis rubs relentlessly at the small nub until tears form in Harry’s eyes and he can feel a knot begin to form low in his abdomen.

“Louis,” Harry whines. “Your cock, I want your cock,” he begs. 

As soon as he asks, Louis pulls his fingers out and grabs the bottle of lube to slick himself up. Harry reaches down to stroke his cock for him, flicking his thumb under the head and making Louis hiss in pleasure. Harry supports himself on his knees and gets as close as he can, lining Louis’ cock up against his entrance. Once the tip is inside, Harry lets go and has Louis do the rest. Louis keeps his hips supported and slowly presses up as Harry goes down, inch by inch. 

When he’s finally seated on Louis’ thighs, his cock buried to the hilt inside of him, Harry breathes out a sigh of pleasure. Louis digs his fingers into Harry’s hips and leans back lazily, a dirty smile fixed to his face. 

“Come on, Harry. Move.”

Harry nods, eager, and raises himself up. When just the tip of Louis’ cock is inside of him, he slowly eases himself back down. Gradually he picks up the pace, until he feels vaguely like he’s on a terribly dirty carousel ride. Louis traces his hands over his belly, letting his fingers ghost over his cock teasingly. Harry whines and arches back, trying to push his cock into Louis’ grip, but his hands merely dance away as he laughs. He does move his hands up, though, to pinch at Harry’s nipples. He tweaks and pulls until they’re stinging and sore, but Harry doesn’t want him to stop.

Harry panics when he feels the ball of pleasure in his tummy grow, because he knows he’ll be too far gone to stop himself from coming. He can’t stop though, whining as his movements become less measured and more of a messy grind than anything. With a few expertly aimed hits at his prostate, Harry’s body seizes; he clenches around Louis’ cock and comes with a loud scream, spilling onto Louis’ chest. Louis stills his hips while Harry winds down, placing wet kisses along his collarbones. He realizes only belatedly that Louis hasn’t come again yet. He’s about to pull off and finish Louis with his hand, but Louis pulls him closer.

Harry looks at him confusedly, but there’s still fire behind Louis’ eyes that suggests this isn’t over.

“Can you come again?” Louis asks. Harry’s eyes widen. He’s never – he’s never even _thought_ about doing this before. He just accepted that it’s a fact of life that he’s not meant to come twice while on a cock. But Louis looks determined and Harry…well Harry wants to please him.

He nods hesitantly. Louis lets out a soft breathe and moves his hands down to cup his arse. With deceptively strong arms, he raises Harry up and then thrusts when he brings him back down.

Harry gasps and scrambles at Louis’ shoulders. It’s too much too soon, and the pain mixed with pleasure feels a little like it might kill him. But he’s curious, and he wants so badly to keep going. A tear drops down on Louis’ shoulder as Harry breathes in ragged breaths. 

“You,” Louis groans. “Are. So. Beautiful.” Each word is punctuated with a thrust that has Harry gasping for air. “My beautiful boy, aren’t you, Harry?”

Harry cries and nods, somehow mustering the strength to start moving on his own again. He moves quickly and jerkily, with no finesse, rutting desperately against Louis’ hips.

There’s a muted mumbling that Harry hears in the back of his head. With a jolt, he realizes it’s coming from himself. 

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” he cries. 

“Baby,” Louis grunts. “Beautiful boy. So good, Harry.” He reaches down with one hand to fist at Harry’s oversensitive cock that hasn’t really had a chance to soften. It’s painful, but the pleasure laced with each touch overrides the discomfort just enough. 

Harry hears the wooden slats of the chair creaking with every movement, and he thinks distantly that the chair might break by the time they’re done. Louis’ hand that isn’t jerking his cock moves down to his arse, palming one of Harry’s cheeks roughly. He pulls back and gives it a sharp slap that makes Harry whimper. He slaps harder, accenting each thrust with a spank. 

“Daddy!” Harry wails. He doesn’t even lift himself off Louis’ cock anymore, simply grinds fast figure-eights so that the head of Louis’ cock nudges against his prostate. 

“My beautiful boy,” Louis groans. “You gonna come for me, again, baby?” Harry sobs brokenly and nods, fucking himself into Louis’ fist. With one last spank at his arse, he comes again. It’s more intense this time, he thinks. It hurts a little, but he feels sated too. 

Louis pumps his hips once more and then moans into Harry’s ear as he comes. 

They hold each other tightly for a few minutes as they catch their breaths. Harry can feel the warmth of the sun hitting his already overheated back. Louis leans back and pulls Harry against his chest, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades to ease him down.

When Harry finally feels like he can breathe normally, he pulls back to give Louis a watery smile. “Thank you.”

Louis snorts and cups Harry’s cheek with one hand. “Thanking someone after sex, Curly. How polite of you.”

Harry shakes his head and gives him a rueful grin. “No. Thanks for indulging me, I guess.”

“Harry, I wasn’t ‘indulging’ anything. I wanted that just as much as you did, darling. I want you just like you want me,” Louis stresses.

Harry shrugs anyway. “Still. I think – I don’t want you to think this is just post-sex emotions or anything, but I think I love you a bit, Louis.”

Louis’ smile softens. He rubs his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone and tugs him in for a kiss. 

“Think I love you a bit, too, Curly.”

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is cheesy as HECK hahaha
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> and leave comments and that kinda thing!!! hope you liked it a little.


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